


Stroll

by Radical Anus (Shokubenii)



Series: Noctober [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 11:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16173833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shokubenii/pseuds/Radical%20Anus
Summary: Noctis goes on a stroll through the streets in the evening. It's a normal thing. And then it isn't.





	Stroll

**Author's Note:**

> First entry for Noctober 2018 - Breathe  
> First entry for Whumptopber 2018 - Stabbed
> 
> Both a day late.

The prince meandered along the crowded city sidewalk, barely able to avoid being swept away by the waves of commuters trying to get home from a long day, or just beginning their long night. He pulled the black scarf higher over his nose and shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. Usually he waited until later for his calming walk, but it felt better to hide within the folds of the citizenry, beanie snug around his head, baggy cargo pants sometimes getting caught in the seams of passersby.

He was maybe halfway to the refugee district, the scent of exotic foods prying its way through the wool of his scarf. The thicket of people began to thin, easier to walk between them. There was a drummer on the sidewalk, old and dirty, and most likely homeless.

Noctis stopped in his tracks and frowned, not liking how thin the man looked with nothing but rags to keep him warm in the early onset of the cooling night. Decision made, Noctis walked over to the performer, dropping a few bills into the nearby pot and shed his own jacket, draping it over the man’s shoulders.

The drummer looked up, beyond the face of the prince. He was blind. But the near-toothless smile shone in his general direction was the best thing Noctis had seen all day. Noctis continued his leisurely stride, a little bounce in his step and almost oblivious to the nip of the wind through the long sleeves of the sweatshirt worn under his black t-shirt.

But he wasn’t prepared for the person barreling into him from behind, their sharp elbow nearly dislodging his innards.

And damn, did that hurt.

They both stumbled forward, trying to get their respective footing.

“Sorry, man!” The youth was panting, wild-eyed.

“It’s fine,” Noctis grunted and waved him off, trying his best not to wince, but failing. “Sorry for getting in your way.”

The stranger left in just as much of a hurry, apologies left afloat in the air behind him as he disappeared into the evening.

The throbbing in his side never really stopped, the twinge a persistent thing with every other step. But the sudden wave of fatigue washing over him made him wonder, and Noctis searched for an opening between the buildings to catch his breath.

Shielded from the streetlights under the emergency exits of an apartment complex, Noctis left his entire weight on the concrete wall, breath coming in short bursts, aggravating the pain in his side. He must have been bruised pretty badly by the blow.

He reached around with his right hand to his agonizing left side, a foreign sound reaching his ears as the pain made the dim lights dance across his vision. Something had dug deeper into his flesh and he hesitantly raised both layers to—.

When did he get on the ground?

The prince shook his head, instantly regretting it when the world tilted dangerously and his stomach heaved. He swallowed and braced himself to try raising the shirts again, to see torn flesh and the sliver of a blade jutting out of the wound.

The sight was so odd to him, having only seen such things on television. It was almost hypnotizing.

But, his rationale prodded him, he needed to call for help. However, moving seemed to be the worst thing he could do at any given moment, evidenced by the sudden appearance of the sky above him between the rusted metal landings bolted to the walls on either side of the alley. His left side felt cold from the winds worming through the alley, but he felt a vague weight in his left hand, and a small voice yelling his name.

The prince blinked himself back to full awareness, raising his all-too heavy right hand to see that his phone was already on an open line, Nyx’s name scrawled across the screen.

He fumbled to tap the speaker button, and the device fell atop his chest.

_“Noct!”_

“Hey, Hero,” the words felt heavy on his tongue.

_“Did you butt dial me? I’ve been calling your name for the last two minutes.”_

“Are you home?”

_“About to open the door,”_ Nyx replied slowly. _“What’s up?”_

“I’m gonna need you t’trace m’phone.” He could feel himself slipping. Not good.

_“Noctis,”_ Nyx’s voice seemed so much closer than it was. _“Talk to me, where are you?”_

“Dunno. Hurts—.”

_“What hurts?”_

“—can’t move.”

_“Babe? Noct…Noctis!”_

His left side was a muted presence, a steady beat to match his heart. Where there was to be pain lancing through the jagged slice, there was only warmth. Pleasantly so.

Noctis grunted with a curse, trying to keep his head out of the thick fog that settled around it. “Here,” he breathed. “’M here.”

_“Keep talking to me. I’m on my way.”_

The prince hummed, suddenly feeling lighter. Less cold. The incessant garbling noise somewhere near him was interrupting nap time, though. Maybe if he ignored it, it would go away and he could sleep in peace.

Maybe—.

When he resurfaced, it was to a frantic command to _“Breathe, damn it!”_ and an excruciating agony from his chest and his left side, as if they held hands in painful solidarity.

The prince felt the cold scrape his throat raw, catching in the middle, causing his chest to heave and almost cave in on itself. He heard himself wheeze rather than feel it, the sensation swallowed by the loud roaring in his ears and the blurred colors above him.

There was a hand on his cheek. A familiar hand—one that he wanted to reach up and grab, but his body refused to obey him.

“That’s it, babe,” he managed to hear above the noise. “Take another breath for me.”

Noctis did what he could, while trying to get the blobs of color to take shape. There was pressure against his side, he realized as he slowly got his bearings. He did his best to recall why he was prone on the hard ground with someone hovering over him.

“What—.”

But he was silenced. “Just focus on breathing. We’re going to get you out of here.”

We?

“Medics will be here in ten,” a woman’s voice cut through the lessening haze. She sounded far away. “How is he?”

“He’s alive,” the voice above him cracked. It was familiar. He should know this person.

“Nyx?”

“Yeah,” the answer came at length, the blurred face of his Glaive finally swimming into focus. “It’s me.”

“’Kay,” Noctis exhaled, relaxing into the bliss that came back for him.

“No.” The urgency was enough to bring Noctis back to sharp focus for more than a few seconds. Nyx’s eyes were red-rimmed, wide and earnest. “We don’t have another Phoenix Down, and we can’t remove the blade without a potion.”

Blade?

Oh.

Right.

Noctis felt himself nod, focusing on doing the one thing he was told when he first came to.


End file.
